Chapter 11

The girls were, in fact, talking about their boyfriends, but it wasn't along the lines that Dave thought they were.

"What do we do now?" asked Denise, when they got to Cindy's room. Cindy was checking email, anxious to see if she'd missed anything on their unplanned, and unintended vacation.

"About what?" asked Cindy, distracted by the list of messages that had built up.

"About THEM, you dope!" squealed Denise. "About our daddies!"

"They're our fathers," said Cindy. "What CAN we do about them?" She was trying to read an email from Susan Watts, who had asked her if she could go out with Randy after Cindy had told him off.

"CINDY!" hissed Denise. She reached for the monitor and punched the on/off button. The screen went dark.

"Hey!" said Cindy, looking up at her friend.

"They fucked us!" hissed Denise. "What are we going to do about that?"

Cindy stared at her friend. Denise was displaying all the same signs and signals that she usually did when she wanted to talk to Cindy about a boyfriend she was especially hot for.

"You have three boyfriends," said Cindy, hiding her smile. She knew she was teasing Denise. "Do you really need more?"

Denise stared back at Cindy, like she had grown a third eye.

Cindy finally couldn't keep her laugh in any more, and it burst out.

"Look," she said. "We're not virgins any more. You DO have three boyfriends. You can do whatever you want, now."

Denise looked shocked. "If you think I'm going to just let those guys crawl all over me, like I'm some kind of slut..." She tensed, and her scowl made her whole face wrinkle up. "I thought you were my friend!"

"I AM your friend!" said Cindy. "What do you want me to say? You want me to say you can come over here and fuck my Daddy any time you feel like it?"

"YES!" yelled Denise. Then her mouth snapped shut and her eyes wobbled like there was an internal earthquake going on, and only her eyeballs were affected. She sat down on the bed. "I AM a slut," she moaned.

"You're not a slut," said Cindy. "You love my Daddy, and you like having sex with him. I love having sex with your Daddy too. My problem is I love having sex with both of them."

"Me too!" moaned Denise. "See what I mean? What are we going to do?"

"Can't we just keep sleeping with them?" asked Cindy.

"Can we?" moaned Denise. "We're back home now. This is all so normal," she said, waving her hand around the room. "It isn't normal for us to just fuck them whenever we want to!"

"Why not?" asked Cindy. "People do it with their lovers all the time."

"Not fathers and daughters!" said Denise.

"Uncle Dick isn't my father," pointed out Cindy.

"Yes, but you can't sleep with him every night!" yipped Denise.

"I could on sleepovers," said Cindy.

Denise stood up. "OK, so from now on, I guess we'll have a sleepover at my house one night, and then at your house the next night. Yeah," she said sarcastically, "that'll work just fine!"

"You don't have to have sex every single night," said Cindy, just as sarcastically. "You're not a slut... remember?"

"Well, then, why do I want to have it right now?!" Denise shot back. "Don't you?"

Cindy blinked. She COULD have sex right now, if she wanted to! That had certainly never happened before. All she had to do was go downstairs and pick the man she wanted, and...

"Hey," she said, looking doubtful. "What if they won't do it with us any more?"

"What do you mean?" asked Denise.

"Well, think about it!" said Cindy. "We were stuck out there, and all that was on the TV was porn. We HAD to sleep together then. What if they won't do it, now that we're home?"

"They can't do that!" moaned Denise. "I like it too much! I can't just not do that any more!" She stared at her friend. "And I'm NOT going to do that with some boy from school, so don't even go there!"

"I know, I know," said Cindy. "Me neither, and not just because I'm between boyfriends right now. I can't imagine doing that with somebody I don't love."

"That's right!" said Denise. "A little playing around is one thing. This is something completely different."

"Well, then," said Cindy. "We just have to convince them that they can't stop."

"How do we do that?" asked Denise.

"Talk to them?" suggested Cindy.

"Can we do that?" asked Denise.

"If you can't talk to the man who took your virginity, something's wrong," pointed out Cindy.

"I know," moaned Denise. "I'm just afraid they'll say no, and get all parental on us."

"Maybe if we waited, until tonight, you know. We can try to sleep with them tonight, and while we're doing that, we can talk to them about it."

"What if one of us doesn't get to sleep with them, tonight?" asked Denise.

"That won't work," said Cindy, immediately. "We have to both do it at the same time."

"I could call you on my cell," said Denise.

"While you're having sex with Uncle Dick?" asked Cindy, incredulous.

"Well, maybe as we're getting ready to, or something like that. I could call you and tell you it's going to happen, and then, if you think it's not going to happen at your house, I could stop, or something. And you could do the same thing, and then it would be both or not at all."

"OK!" said Cindy, excited. "That sounds like a plan."

Thus goes the attempt by a teenager to engage in rational thinking, before the part of the brain that enables rational thinking has fully developed. Kind of makes you think that eighteen might be a tad bit early to let them vote... and help determine the fate of the nation... doesn't it?

For the men, the signals they got when the girls descended from the castle tower that was Cindy's, were somewhat mixed. The girls acted normally, in the sense that they acted like teenaged girls, padding around the house, getting something to nibble on, talking to the men, occasionally, and channel surfing on the TV to see if there was anything they wanted to watch.

When Dick suggested that they hadn't been home, since arriving... home... Denise's response was typical for a normal situation.

"But we just got here, Daddy," she said, initially. "Cindy hasn't even had time to check all her email!" Then, after a few seconds, she said "I do need to take a shower and get ready for bed, though. Whatever you think is best, Daddy."

Dick looked at his watch. It was not quite five in the evening. He looked at Dave, who shrugged.

"It is about supper time," ventured Dick.

"I'm not really hungry," said Denise, munching on one of the handful of carrot sticks she'd gotten from Dave's refrigerator. "Lunch was soooo huge!"

"I probably need to check my own email," said Dick. "I missed a lot of work. I hope I still have a job. I didn't have any showings this week, but there was a closing that I missed. I know one of the other brokers took care of it, but I need to let them know I'm back, and what happened. You want to stay here for a while, baby?"

"No!" said Denise, too quickly, and with too much emphasis. "I think you're right. I need to check my email too. We've been gone so long!"

Both girls acted like Denise's complete turn around was completely normal, and Cindy hugged her friend goodbye. She went to Dick and gave him what was obviously a perfunctional hug, and peck on the cheek. Prior to the trip, it would have been par for the course. Dick looked at Dave, who shrugged.

At both houses, once Dick and Denise had walked next door to theirs, the scene was eerily similar. There was very little talk, as both father and daughter waited for the other to say something. It was too early for the girls to suggest it was bedtime, and then suggest that they wanted to sleep with their father again, like it was now normal. Both men were antsy. Both girls moped around the house, lounging here and there, looking delicious to their fathers. Both men tried to catch up on what they'd missed at work. Dick had several emails asking where the hell he was, and answered them. Dave had emails from his employees, giving him updates on jobs completed, and in process and, in much more delicate language, wondering where the hell he was. He answered those too.

The girls went through their email, which took longer. Everybody raided the refrigerator for something quick and easy.

It was all very routine, in most ways. And, as it turned out, it was the routine itself, that made things happen.

"What's on?" asked Cindy, as she came downstairs and found her father watching TV.

"Oh, it's just an old re-run of the Dick Van Dyke show," said Dave. "Kind of brings back old memories, I guess. I loved this show when I was growing up, even though I'd have never admitted it then. I was in High School - about your age - when it was winding down and got cancelled. Back then you couldn't admit that you thought it was funny."

Cindy sank down on the couch beside him, a normal, routine kind of thing she'd done a thousand times before. She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her, a normal, routine kind of thing he'd done a thousand times before. It even felt normal and routine to both of them, as she settled in to watch with him.

On the screen, a thin, overactive man was lying in bed, having an argument with an attractive dark-haired woman with a hairstyle that was humorous to Cindy. The woman was in another bed, two feet away from the one the man was in. It reminded Cindy of the motel room.

"They're married, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Dave, his concentration on the humor in the argument.

"So why are they in separate beds?" asked his daughter.

Dave looked at his daughter. Her face was inches from him, but she was staring at the screen.

"Back then, you couldn't show married people in bed together," he said.

"You're kidding!" said Cindy, clearly amazed.

"Nope. The censors wouldn't allow it."

"They had censors for TV shows?" asked Cindy, astonished. This was America! You didn't have censors in America!

"They still have censors for TV shows," said Dave. "At least on the free channels. Why do you think cable took off so strongly?"

"But cable's been around forever!" said the girl.

"No it hasn't. It started because people wanted to make programs that the national networks wouldn't run."

"But this..." said Cindy, pointing to the screen. "If they wouldn't show married people in bed... where did they think babies came from?"

"Everybody knew where babies came from," said Dave, trying to explain something that made no sense whatsoever. "But you couldn't actually talk about that, or show it. Not on a national network."

"That's pretty stupid," said Cindy.

"I know," agreed Dave. "But that's the way it was, back then. There were separate beds for all the famous married couples on TV."

It was quiet for a few seconds.

"Daddy?"

"What?"

"Do we still have to have separate beds?"

At Dick and Denise's house, it was a little different. Denise got something else to eat, even though she wasn't hungry (!) and they both checked their email before deciding to take a shower. Over the years, mostly because it meant cleaning one shower, instead of two, they had both gotten used to using the one in the hallway, across from Denise's bedroom. There was one in the master bath in Dick's bedroom, but he just wasn't in the habit of using it.

Neither of them were paying much attention to the other, at that point, because, by then, it was only about seven. Denise had gone into the bathroom to take her shower, before Dick left his bedroom to go do the same thing. Denise had dropped her clothes and was examining herself in the mirror, trying to see if not being a virgin any more showed somehow, when Dick opened the door and walked in, dressed in only his boxers.

Denise turned.

"Oh, hi, Daddy," she said, automatically.

Dick stood, transfixed. She was SO beautiful. His prick stiffened, not only because of her nakedness, but also because of the timbre of her voice.

"Sorry, Kitten," he said, automatically.

"Daddy!" she said, frowning. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before."

"I know, honey," he said. "I just didn't know how you'd feel about things... now that we're home."

Denise dropped her eyes to the lump, clearly obvious in his boxers.

"You can go ahead and take your shower, if you want," she said.

"It's OK," he said, his breath coming faster. "You were here first."

"Well,... considering what happened and all... couldn't we... um... share?" asked his daughter. "There's something I want to ask you about anyway."

Cindy and her father were walking toward his bedroom, when a musical tone sounded down the hall.

"Oh shit!" squealed Cindy, and pulled free from her father's hand, running to her room. Denise's name and number were displayed on the screen. She flipped it open, while she ran back into the hallway, where Dave was still standing.

"I... couldn't... wait," came Denise's panting voice, over the phone.

"What?" asked Cindy, grabbing her father's hand and pulling him toward his bedroom.

"We're... already... Ohhhhh Dadddyyyyyy," the sentence ended in a moan.

"You're doing it right NOW?!" squealed Cindy.

"Yeeeesssssss," whined her friend.

"It's OK," panted Cindy, pushing her father toward the bed. "Bye!"

She flipped the phone closed and laid it down on the night stand. She pulled the T shirt, that was all she was wearing, over her head. She was so excited that she shoved her hand between her legs.

"Hurry UP, Daddy!" she moaned.

Once the relationships at home had been resolved, to the satisfaction of all concerned - literally - the next thing the girls talked about was how to extend that satisfaction to each other's houses. While talking to their fathers about the home situation had worked really well, they were still a little unsure of themselves. So they worked out another plan.

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